


Summer Heat

by sapphocles (freckles42)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1566995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckles42/pseuds/sapphocles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione catches Ron with the twins. Summer heat catches up to them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Heat

**Author's Note:**

> For the Smutty Summer Alphabet Challenge over at books_freckles. My words were "gasp," "husky," and "writhe."
> 
> Originally written in 2007.

Hermione had been staying at the Burrow while the family prepared for the wedding of Bill and ~~Phle-~~ _Fleur_. There had been much speculation amongst the younger Weasleys as to how long it would take for Fleur to become _plein d'enfant_ \- and how much the child would end up taking after its parents. Fred and George were of the opinion that any offspring of the two would be hairy but disturbingly beautiful. This discussion usually ended when Ginny would start mimicking shaving her face as she tossed her hair about, because that was inevitably the point at which Molly's supernatural mother-sense would ping and she'd come bursting into the room. She had begun yelling loudly that if they couldn't find something better to do than mock her future grandchildren that she'd ensure that none of them would be able to procreate, Weasley breeding genes or not.

Hermione had taken refuge in Ginny's room, spending hours poring over old books, trying to learn and research all that she could before she and Ron and Harry would be forced to start their hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes. The lazy summer heat that barely moved through the windows almost seemed to tease her; truth be told, it seemed like it was teasing everyone. The weather was so beautiful (if somewhat hot) and something as normal as a wedding seemed… well, it gave Hermione hope for the future, but it all seemed so surreal. She would spend her mornings helping Fleur and Molly and whomever else Molly managed to browbeat into assisting them with arrangements for the wedding. The rest of her day was spent either talking in low tones with Harry and Ron or studying in Ginny's room. Ginny would wander in and out, occasionally trying to coax her to play a game of quidditch with them, but Hermione always waved her off. She didn't dare to leave her books for longer than necessary – what if the next piece of information she found proved to be the one that helped them to destroy Voldemort?

She would read until darkness fell – and at midsummer's day, sunset was at little over an hour before midnight. About an hour before then, when dusk settled heavily over their part of the world, she would charm a small lantern by her bed with a cool flame. She could not handle the thought of lighting a candle and adding heat to the already heavy, stagnant air. Fortunately, with nightfall came the faintest hint of a breeze as the earth cooled. It was the first reprieve they'd have all day, and she'd often find herself unable to sit where she was any longer. After Ginny would crawl into bed, exhausted (and sometimes smelling faintly of Harry, though Hermione did not press her on the issue), Hermione would silently change into her nightgown and walk carefully down the winding, uneven staircase and go for a walk in the back garden.

She went to stare up at the sky, and to enjoy the pleasant warmth of the evening wind, which muted all her fears and concerns. She sat on the bench by the picnic table and stared back at the Burrow, warm light spilling out of the various windows, silhouettes and shadow moving against the curtains or blinds. It made everything seem so normal – almost. Some rooms – Percy's, specifically – were left dark every night. She wondered to herself how much more it would take before he'd come back to the family, or if he'd come back at all. Some evenings she could swear that she saw two figures embracing in the twins’ window. The first time she’d noticed it she’d dismissed the shadows as the boys wrestling, or maybe working on a new product that stuck people together. 

A flicker in Percy's room on the second floor caught her attention and she frowned. She slid off her observation seat on the picnic and moved quietly, barefoot in the cool, dewy grass. A gnome ran in front of her, then darted into a nearby bush. She hesitated, then stepped through the doorway into the kitchen, the smell of blood sausage and banana bread still hanging in the air as she closed the back door quietly behind her. She moved with exceptional quiet, unsure as to who might be in Percy's room. Part of her stomach knotted with dread, and she wished she could get back to Ginny's room to get her wand before going to investigate the light. Ginny's room, though, was on the third landing, making the prospect of getting to her wand unnoticed exceedingly difficult.

As she approached the door, a part of her wondered if Ron had set something up for her. They had not had more than a few minutes of time alone since they'd all arrived at the Burrow. Molly had made sure that she kept an annoying close watch on her own children, making sure they didn't sneak off for any 'inappropriate' activities. They'd barely been able to sneak kisses in the broom shed – rough, clumsy, uncertain, but hungry and needy – without being caught. Ron seemed afraid to risk his mother's wrath – and not without good reason. Hermione was halfway certain that if they could just figure out a way to unleash Molly's righteous anger on Voldemort that it would be a more effective means of destruction than anything else of which they might think. The encounters with Ron had left her aching for something more – something that, she sensed, if she were a _normal_ girl living in a _normal_ time that they would be able to pursue with gusto.

Well, gusto and a pack of condoms. Molly's threats of hexing aside, Hermione suspected that all the male Weasleys had exceptionally strong and obstinate swimmers. Simply put, she did not trust any of the spells or potions that had ended up with Molly having seven children; anything with red hair was clearly as fertile as Molly's garden.

Shaking her head slightly, she stepped forward and put her hand against the door, then pressed her ear against the jamb. A faint light – perhaps a hooded lantern? – danced out from under the gap in the door as her shoulder abutted the cool wood. She closed her eyes, straining her ears to hear the faint mutterings within. Annoyingly, she wished for one of the twins' Extendable Ears.

Then, suddenly, came the unmistakable sound of someone _moaning_. Then, a name followed.

'George.' Long, drawn-out, then repeated, lower, husky.

'Oh gods,' the same voice moaned, then mumbled as though it had been gagged. 'Yes, yes!.'

A male voice. One that was disturbingly familiar. Her stomach knotted and she turned the doorknob, almost hoping that it would be locked and charmed so heavily that she'd be forced to return to her room to get her wand, and then she'd not want to return. No such luck, of course, and the door cracked open and, drawn forward despite all the warnings in her head, she stepped into the room.

This is when she gasped at the sight before her, and time seemed to freeze.

There was her boyfriend, on his hands and knees on the throw rug in the middle of the room. Behind him Fred – or was that George? It was George; the half-cocked smile gave him away (Fred had punched him when they were three and his face had 'never quite been the same,' as he liked to joke) - _George_ was pushed against his younger brother's arse, cheeks as red as his face. At the other end, Fred's cock hung half in and half out of Ron's mouth. Her boyfriend's eyes were wide and his mouth hung agape, and if Hermione weren't so instantly _enraged_ she would almost have thought the sight to be comical. Except it was her boyfriend, and he was playing Chinese finger trap with his _twin brothers!_

Hermione was the first to find her tongue as she quickly closed the door behind her.

'Ronald Weasley,' she hissed, eyes narrowed dangerously. She crossed her arms over her chest, covering up her nipples, which had decided to suddenly notice what was going on and become hard. 'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go get your mother right this instant.'

Ron, whose skin went from red to pale in record time, scrambled to get away from his brothers (this proved tricky for a moment, as the twins had him quite firmly pinned from each end. He eventually curled up and managed to pull off them). ''Mione,' he protested, scrambling for something to hold in front of him and grabbing one of Percy's old teddy bears. 'It's not what it looks like!'

She stared at him and shook her head, storming towards him.

' “Not what it looks like”?' she repeated, incredulous. 'Ron, it looked like you were fellating Fred while George gave you a thorough exam usually best left to trained medical personnel! Did I miss something here?'

Fred and George had moved quickly away and towards the door when Hermione had stormed forward, and now, as they reached the threshold, Hermione's head whipped around.

'And where do you two think you're going?' she snapped, eyes flashing as she looked them over. They froze, then looked at each other. Hermione sensed they were doing the increasingly annoying thing of talking to each other without speaking aloud.

'Don't you dare move,' she warned Ron as she crossed to the twins. She looked them over, and a funny thought struck her.

Fred, bastard that he was, picked up on the look that must have crossed her face and he grinned that smug, shit-eating grin. George's face grinned to almost match his, one side just not pulling up as high as the other.

'Why, George,' Fred purred.

'Yes, Fred?' George purred back, stepping forward towards Hermione, who stood her ground but felt her body tremble as he entered her personal space.

'I think we've been leaving someone out of all our fun – '

'That's not very nice of us.'

Now they were both in front of her, and somehow, their hands were on her hips, sliding the soft fabric of her nightgown against her skin.

'We were taught to share…'

'And so share we shall.'

Hermione found her heart racing and her knickers wet as they caressed her side and pressed up against her. She moaned lowly, eyes closing and all the red anger pooling in her abdomen, churning and changing to something more base as their lips lowered simultaneously to her neck and began to suck. She gasped again and she felt her knees weaken.

A sputtering sound from behind her reminded her that Ron was in the room, but oh gods she didn't want Fred and George to stop what they were doing. She managed to find her breath and she groaned.

'Ron,' she said, trying to turn her head to catch a glimpse of her boyfriend. He stood by the foot of Percy's bed, teddy still in front of his bits, looking somewhere between enraged and randy. Funny, Hermione felt like she were in the same place, except going more and more quickly towards the randy end. The weeks of stolen kisses and furtive touches had frustrated her more than she'd realised at the time, and to suddenly have two sets of lips and hands touching her… well, it was almost more than she dared to think of.

'Bed,' she managed, eyes locking on Ron's, her own voice sounding strange to her ears. ' _Now._ '

With that, the twins released her and she stumbled backwards, catching herself and turning awkwardly before falling against Ron. They tumbled onto Percy's bed in a tangle of heat and hungry kisses, foreheads bumping together and his hands squeezing her nipples through her nightgown. A shifting weight on the small bed told them that Fred and George had climbed in, and with a murmured word, Fred spelled the bed a little wider and threw up a locking charm and silencing ward on the door. Before she knew what was happening, six freckled hands relieved her of her nightgown and she found herself covered in nothing but kisses.

She writhed beneath their touches, fingers sliding slickly against her, a mouth here, another there, a tongue flicking against a curve. Suddenly, she felt one body slide down between her legs and spread her open, tongue running along her. Her body arched up, but even as she cried out there were crooked lips meeting hers, and a matching mouth on her breast, sucking hungrily as the youngest one licked at her. She moaned into George's mouth as Ron explored her inexpertly but enthusiastically. She wrapped her legs over her boyfriend's shoulders and bucked up against his mouth as his tongue pressed into her.

'More,' she gasped out, her body aching, needing something.

'Greedy little wench, isn't she?' George commented before moving his mouth to Hermione's neglected breast, teasing her nipple with his tongue and teeth.

'Very much so,' Fred agreed, kissing her neck and sucking, pulling the skin between his teeth.

Ron kissed up her middle, leaving her aching for completion as he trailed her bitter taste along her skin.

'Ronald Weasley,' she managed, 'if you know what's good for you, you'll go back and finish what you started!'

He propped himself up and insinuated himself between Hermione's legs, gazing down at her.

'Shove off,' he said to Fred, pushing his face away from Hermione's. 'Find someplace else to kiss.'

Ron kissed his girlfriend hungrily, and her tongue snaked out to meet his. She moaned as she tasted herself on his lips.

'Do you want this?' he asked, hand reaching between them and guiding the head of his throbbing cock against her wetness. She trembled but her legs opened wider in invitation, and she kissed him.

George continued to suck at her breast, face half-pinned between his brother and Hermione. Ron guided himself slowly into her, moaning as he slid into her impossibly tight cunt. He suddenly felt a pressure behind him and his eyes snapped open. Hermione sensed the movement, too, and her eyes went wide when she spotted Fred positioning himself behind Ron. If Ron moved backwards – and, oh gods, if he knew what was good for him, he'd better start moving soon – then he would push himself onto Fred.

Hermione's legs moved and her ankles hooked behind Fred's lower thighs.

'Do it,' she urged Ron, inexplicably turned on by the idea of Fred fucking Ron while Ron made love to her for the first time.

That was, apparently, all the encouragement that Ron needed. He moaned lowly and pushed back against Fred, sliding onto his brother's cock as he rocked halfway out of Hermione. Moving slowly at first, they awkwardly established a rhythm, with each thrust of Fred's pushing Ron into Hermione, then Ron would pull back and thrust against Fred, and then the cycle would start all over again. George lay beside Hermione, one hand on his cock, stroking himself as the other three fucked. His other hand reached out after a minute and slid down between Ron and Hermione, feeling for the slick nub that would bring her over the edge. She moaned loudly as he rubbed his fingers against it and it didn't take long for her to buck and cry out, fingers digging tightly into Ron's back as she came. He thrust a few more times before collapsing forward, coming hard against her, body tensing hard around Fred's cock. Fred followed very quickly afterwards.

They lay together, freckled limbs and red hair tangled with Hermione's plain skin and now-wild hair, all sweating with the heat of their exertions and the summer weather.

She played tiredly with Ron's hair, still tingling from her orgasm.

'Percy'd have a fit if he knew,' she commented as they lay in his bed.

Fred and George laughed.

'Why else would we have been sneaking into his room all summer?'

'Just the thought of his face if he knew –'

'Is enough to make me want to have another go.'

It was Hermione's turn to laugh.

'Give a girl a few minutes,' she said, kissing Ron's forehead, but smiling impishly at the twins. 'Then you can have your turns…”


End file.
